In Her Scream
by JustSmile1
Summary: Because in the end, there is nothing left for them to do but self destruct.


**PLEASE READ! First of warnings- this fic isn't solely focused on Hermione and Draco's relationship. It also focuses on Ginny and Harry's and so if you dislike either character that may put you off. This fic is also quite angsty, it contains mentions of alcohol abuse, drug abuse, self harm, mental illness and though not graphic there is a mention of sex. If anyone finds this triggering, please inform me, and I'll try to edit anything. The story alternates, the first part is from Ginny's perspective and then will switch to Hermione's and so on so forth. This is also not beta'd, so the mistakes are all mine. **

**This is a story of two girls. Of how they have everything, of how they're lives are perfect, of how they should be happy. **

**And of how the pain that is love, slowly begins to drown both of them. **

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end there is nothing left for her to do but self destruct.

It was like for her, she saw no other way to go. No other way to survive, than to destroy herself completely. And nobody will ever understand why.

Because in the end, she had everything.

He was alive and safe and breathing, and the whole world was tinted with an orange glow, that just wouldn't seem to fade. They mourned for those lost in the battle, but it seemed like the period of grieving was over so quickly, too quickly, that she didn't have time to digest it. She didn't have that amount of time to be sad for those she had lost, because in the end _he _was alive. And what else matters?

Except it did seem to matter to her. A lot.

Because he could look at her as if she was the world, and his eyes would scream of love and comfort when they talked, but it wasn't enough for her. She still felt empty, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out why.

All she knew was that the screaming never stopped. The scream of madness that echoed through her head. And she knew, without a doubt, that it was her scream she was listening to. She just didn't know why.

Because in the end, she had nothing to fear.

But the screaming would always continue, and the screams stayed lodged inside her every essence for so long that they almost started to sound like music. Like beautiful, insane music. She hated touching him, because although she loved him so much her heart would burst, every touch he gave her amplified the screams until it was all she could do to find a way to stop them.

Because in the end, she had no other option.

XXXXXXXXX

She rose slowly from the bed and pushed her tangled hair behind her ears. She sighed deeply and padded softly across the bedroom floor to the desk that was pushed up against the far wall. A strong feeling of guilt and nausea rose in her throat as she placed the ring on her left hand, the diamonds glinting in the moonlight, but she had done this many times before, she could ignore and push away those feelings so naturally now.

She quietly crept around the bedroom, avoiding the floorboards that creaked as she picked up her scattered clothing, carefully slipping into her underwear and pointedly ignoring the bed to the left of her. And the man on it.

"You don't have to rush off all the time you know," his voice floated towards her, husky and drowned in sleep and she shivered from the sound of it.

And she did know. She could stay the night, and make out like a meeting at the ministry had kept her behind and she had just stayed at the office. It was perfectly plausible, and she wouldn't be questioned about it. But somehow that was one line she couldn't cross. She smirked at the stupidity of that belief but it was true.

She could deal with fucking. She could do with the sweat and moans, in the hushed hours of the night, of the darkness. She couldn't deal with sleeping in the same bed, and waking up together. Because that was intimate and a privilege only her partner could share.

And the man in the bed, was most certainly not her partner.

She turned to look at him and shrugged, pulling on her blouse and nimbly doing up the buttons, despite her shaking fingers. She pulled her hair up into a bun and dodged round the bed, grabbing her pencil skirt and hoisting it up onto her waist. Her feet slipped into the kicked off shoes and she prepared to leave, when he grabbed out and caught her wrist.

She flinched at his touch, and looked just above his head, avoiding his eyes.

"I have never treated you like a mere fuck," he growled "And I refuse to allow you to do the same,"

"We were never anything more than that," she replied, her voice catching slightly.

"Keep lying to yourself. But remember this, you have come to me, more times than I have come to you,"

She nodded, her face blank and he let go of wrist. She pulled away from him quickly and grabbed her bag on the way out, stuffing her torn tights into it. She reached the big oak door when he stopped her in tracks.

"Granger," he said and she turned to look at him. He nodded at her, his beautiful hair ruffled from sleep, but his eyes bright and piercing.

She opened the door and nodded in return "Malfoy."

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she wanted nothing more than numbness.

Sex was the best. Out of all of her options it was one of the best, maybe even the best. She was careful, she would never jeopardise Harry in that way, and so even in her drunken state she always cast the protective charm and made the guys wear a condom.

And as he bit down on her neck and she cried out she smiled, because the screaming was dulled. Still there naturally, but quieted. As if the mad Ginny inside her could only be drowned out when the normal Ginny was doing something destructive.

Because in the end, she had nothing left to do but question her sanity.

It was always there in the back of her mind, her sanity. Maybe this was a nightmare she couldn't quite escape from. Why else would she choose this route? This way to live. She had no answer, and so therefore no solution to it.

She went to her parents and smiled and chatted, she had dinner with Hermione and Ron and didn't miss the way Hermione seemed subdued, her lack of interest with Ron seemed so profound that she couldn't help but wonder how Harry had missed it, but then Harry was always a bit slow on the obvious. But that didn't stop him from trying.

Because in the end, there was no other choice but to adore him.

And so she did.

In fact, everything about Harry she loved. His smile, his glasses, the way his hair would never ever lie straight, how he knew and treasured her body better than any man ever would.

And all of this makes it so difficult, so damn difficult, because if she loves him so much, why is it that she feels like clawing herself every time he touches her. Why if she loves him to the point that it almost hurts, does the screaming always intensify when he looks her way?

So she does what she can to avoid him. And she hates it, because missing him is worse than anything she's ever experienced. But she's good at finding distractions, so she gets drunk and high, she parties and has sex with any willing man, she does anything anything at all, to try and fill the huge bleeding hole inside.

And a part of her, a small vicious part of her, hopes to God she dies on the journey.

XXXXXXXXX

She looked around the party and rolled her eyes at the splendour of it all. She felt as Ron's hand came to the rest at the small of her back as he stood behind her.

"And you thought it was going to be overdone…" he grinned at her, and she laughed, twisting in his hold and locking her arms around the back of his neck, her hands playing with his hair.

"Do we really have to be here?" she asked him and he chuckled, lowering his face down to hers.

"Well it is in our honour," he whispered, pressing his lips to hers.

And it was nice. It was really was. It just wasn't exploding or burning, there were no fireworks dancing in her stomach and her body didn't automatically arch into his.

But it was nice.

"Then I suppose we must stay," she murmured, leaning against him after she pulled away. "You haven't seen Harry have you?"

"Yeah he's here somewhere, probably trying to escape the reporters," Ron replied, downing his champagne "Think he's a bit pissed off cos Ginny hasn't come with him,"

Hermione frowned slightly at Ron's words and made a mental note to catch up with her sometime. Properly catch up with her not just have a dinner when it was so obvious she was pretending to enjoy herself, pretending to smile and be happy when the bags under her lifeless eyes protested otherwise and when she flinched every time Harry brushed close to her.

"Can you believe it's been four years? It seems like only yesterday we were camping out in that dreadful cold tent," she shuddered slightly and Ron shook his head in agreement.

"It has gone very quick, our lives seem a bit boring now," Ron replied, smiling teasingly at her.

"Our lives are anything but boring," she murmured, thinking about the constant photography and interviews, the mundane balls thrown for 'The Golden Trio', how she could open a paper and read things about her personal life she hadn't even known, how her work still threw her and Harry into situations that seemed too dangerous, but yet so normal at the same time whilst Ron stayed behind and helped George expand the shop, and how that constant constant paranoia and fear of a Death Eater at every corner, or photographs or her and Malfoy tangled in between sheets crowded her mind every day.

Hermione shifted in Ron's embrace, enjoying his scent when he suddenly tensed. She looked up at his face, to see his ears gradually turning pink and she pulled back a bit to watch him further.

"Ron what is it?"

"Nothing, don't worry,"

"Ronald."

Ron jerked his head towards the entrance and Hermione's stomach flipped to see Draco stood in the doorway, a very pretty blonde clinging onto his arm. Her heart started pounding as she looked him up and down, swallowing at the tuxedo that fitted him perfectly.

His eyes looked up straight at her, ignoring all of the drama he had created from walking in, and she forgot for a moment how to breathe. Ron's arm tightened possessively around her waist.

She had never seen that look in Draco's eye before, almost feral as he stared at her. His eyes travelling down her body, admiring her clinging dress. She breathed shallowly and Ron grabbed her hands.

"Let's dance, shall we?"

And that's how she knew he was worried, cos Ron never danced, at least not voluntarily. They moved steadily across the floor, and she couldn't help but smile at the intense look of concentration that was fixed on his face as he guided her around the floor.

She glanced over Ron's shoulder and her insides screamed with anger, as she saw Draco whispering into the ear of the blonde he had arrived with, a smile plastered on her full lips as she nodded in response to his words.

She focused on dancing, and tried breathe steadily, her eyes fixing on Ron's face.

"Excuse me?"

Ron stopped the dancing but kept his hand on Hermione's waist, as Draco's pretty blonde smiled at the both of them.

"I know it's really rude of me, but me and Draco are leaving in a couple of minutes, and to be honest I only came because I knew you would be here," she said smiling widely at Ron, and Hermione stepped closer into her fiancée's embrace, her eyes narrowing at the woman.

"I was just wondering if maybe I could have a dance? You see, you saved my little sister's life five years ago, you pushed her out of the way of a spell and saved her life. I've really wanted to meet you since then, and oh Merlin, I sound like such a stalker. I just meant, I would really love to dance, but I know you're with Hermione so if you don't want to it's fine I just…." And she trailed off, her cheeks blushing a bright red as she shuffled nervously, her deep red dress floating as she moved, and Hermione's eyes softened a little. This woman had come with Malfoy, and no woman with Malfoy would even look at Ron. Malfoy made his dislike of Ron very clear, and no associate of his would ever be allowed to think otherwise. So maybe this girl was genuine.

Plus Hermione seriously needed a strong drink.

"Well I'm sure Ronald would love to dance," Hermione smiled as the woman's head shot up her eyes bright and wide, as her long wavy hair fell across her shoulders. "Wouldn't you?"

She looked up at Ron, who stared deliberately at her for a minute. He dropped a quick kiss to her lips, before taking the woman's hand and leading her back onto the dance floor. Hermione chuckled softly as she watched her husband try to awkwardly position them correctly before spinning off amongst the couples.

She made her way over to the drinks stand when an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back, she spun around and swallowed as Draco stared down at her darkly.

"Care for a dance?" he asked, his voice cold.

"No." she replied bluntly, and tried to walk away, but he steered her back onto the dance floor shhing her as she began to struggle.

"Remember there are photographers here, and since you so publicly endorsed me as a good and Light wizard two years ago, it would look a little odd to see you so against the idea of a dance," he murmured and she scowled as she turned to face him, and he pushed her body closer to his own.

"Be careful," she whispered as he began to guide them across the floor. Unlike with Ron, her body submitted to him completely, and she didn't even concentrate as they moved across the floor. All she could feel was his hand burning into her bare back and his eyes boring into her face.

"What for? This is so much fun," he murmured, pressing himself even closer and she felt unable to breathe.

"Are you trying to get us caught?" She hissed at him and he smirked at her, his hand stroking the small of her lower bare back. It was a backless dress, and now she desperately wished she'd chosen another.

"Not at all, you are the one who seems unable to keep her emotions in check," he said raising his eyebrows at her flushed cheeks, and uneven breathing.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" she whispered, looking over his shoulder as he guided them around the floor.

"I'm celebrating Potter's victory of course," he drawled in reply "What other reason would I have for being here?"

"Aside from trying to simultaneously piss off my fiancée and your own date," she muttered, nodding discreetly over to where Ron was still spinning the blonde around the floor, but it was proving a little tricky when both of them had their eyes locked firmly on Hermione and Draco.

"Kirsty will get over it," he replied, not bothering to re assure his date.

"So gentlemanly," she rolled her eyes at him, and he pressed down against her back, pushing her as close to him as he could.

"You cannot be with him," His voice was hard, and almost demanding, yet she caught the underlying tone. That little whisper in his voice, the one that quietly murmured of unspoken pain at her soon to be marriage.

"You cannot. I have tried to forget you, to place you out of my mind, but I can't. If you intend to hold me in this unbearable place, and to show no interest in me as anything aside from the little _fuck _you crave when your life gets too mundane for you, at least do me the courtesy of releasing me from whatever spell you have cast to make me feel this way for you,"

Her eyes widened at his words, and she swallowed the deep lump in her throat, blinking back the stinging in her eyes.

"Because I assure you Granger, for everyday you ignore me but still manage to captivate me, is another day a part of me, burns with hatred for you," he spoke quietly, his words piercing her as his face remained impassive, but his eyes burned with an intensity so deep, and so painful, she had to look away.

The music faded away into a lulling classical piece, and she stepped closer into his hold by her own initiative. The music slowly picked up tempo, and she swayed against him, one arm hooked around his neck whilst the other was placed against his chest. She looked over his shoulder, but kept her eyes downcast, determined not to see the look of confusion and surprise that would be plastered all over Ron's face.

She felt as his lips quickly brushed over to the top of her head, and the gesture was so endearing, so tender that she buried her face against the crook of his neck, a lone tear falling from her eye onto his pale skin.

His thumb rubbed slow, but firm circles on her bare back as he gently moved with her. The music swirled around the two of them, encircling them both in a tragic but intensely beautiful moment. She lifted her face to look at him, and the music suddenly swung into the more melancholy tune that it started with, and she exhaled shakily, her eyes finding his effortlessly.

"I.. I need you to understand that.. if this is the goodbye you seem to be trying to… know that I…" She trailed off and he watched her, his jaw clenching as the high mournful notes of the piano danced over the top of the slow melody played underneath it.

"Draco," she breathed out, her curls falling in front of her face as she looked down at the ground.

He discreetly tilted her face up and pushed the curls away from her face.

"I…."

"Don't say it," he commanded harshly, his body tensing against hers. "Don't you dare tell me that if you will not stay to prove it."

"It would never work. Maybe in fairytales where people are forgiving, and where the only thing that matters is a person's happiness," she murmured up to him as his hand stopped caressing and his eyes stopped seeing "But this society is not like that. And I can do nothing about that,"

"You could choose to abandon society," he replied, his voice monotonous, but she knew he was burning. Deep inside of him, his heart was on fire. And deep inside her, her heart was crying.

"That is not an option. I could not leave for you, an ex Death Eater, when I myself still hunt the ones that continue along Voldemort's path,"

"I am a no longer a Death Eater,"

"It would not be seen that way. You are considered still a traitor, I would be hurting so many others in exchange for my own happiness."

"Such as Weasley,"

"Yes Ron! And Harry, Ginny, the Weasley's, every person who's ever been hurt by you or your father would rebel against my decision. It would create outrage in a community that's finally peaceful,"

"And so you choose a life of boredom," he replied, his eyes burning into hers and she was glad his arms were still wrapped tight around her, she was certain that if they had not been she would have fallen to the floor.

"I love Ron," she whispered and his eyebrows arched, his eyes burning with tormented amusement.

"Oh, you love him?" He taunted and she frowned up at him, her emotions easily triggered.

"I do. I love him," she spoke firmly, watching as a flash of pain and jealousy passed his face "Not in a brother like way, and not in a dreadfully romantic way either. In a companionship way, he is my partner. I do not love him however, in the way that I do you," she whispered, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as they still swayed, uncaring of the attention being passed their way.

"Is that supposed to bring me comfort?" He drawled angrily, his jaw clenched and if felt as though her entire existence drooped slightly at his anger.

"It is supposed to assure you," she replied almost desperately, as he retracted further and further into himself.

"Of what? That you are in love with Weasley?" He sneered at her, his hands tightening across her skin.

"I am in love with you." She hissed at him, and they both froze. Desperation and heartache stole across his features as he pressed himself even closer, bringing his face close to hers.

"Then be with me," he pleaded. Tears cascaded down her face as she watched distraught.

"I can't," she whispered, looking down to the floor, tears flowing past her face.

"You are destroying me," he groaned near her forehead.

"I will be in love with you until the day I die," she moaned quietly, a sob passing her lips without her permission. She knew it was true, and it felt like she was being ripped apart to know that she had no way of ever getting over it, she couldn't even live out the rest of her life with him, simply because she had already chosen another. Or at least, society had.

Because her relationship with Ron was perfect. The beautiful love-hate relationship, ignored for years yet always existent love between two friends who had had to cling to each other to survive the brutal war they had been thrown into.

It should have been perfect. But then he had come along and consumed her so fully, that she felt as if her soul was buried inside his, and to live without him, wasn't even living at all.

"Hermione?"

She stiffened in Malfoy's hold. And felt as Malfoy's hands and arms were removed from her back, and immediately her body ached for him. She knew straight away that it was Ron's arm which draped protectively across her shoulders, holding her to him as she struggled to remain upright from the pain that was burning in her chest. But that made it all the worse, because she had betrayed him. But he was still here, even though she was certain, that somewhere deep down Ron knew exactly what was going on. But he still stayed. And a part of her hated him for that.

"We need to go love," he murmured guiding her out of the room, raising his hand against the flash of many cameras. She simply didn't care about the amount of photographs or the harsh words of speculation that were already being thrown around, because she knew, without a doubt, that that last dance had been goodbye.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, silence was his companion just as much as it was hers.

She blinked heavily, enjoying the quiet of her euphoric state. Until he broke it.

"You planning to die kid?"

She looked at him, and her mind slowed down as she smiled.

"Are you?" she asked in reply.

He shrugged, his lank hair falling across his face.

"I'm not the one injecting muggle shit into my veins," he murmured and she giggled quietly, until slowly the screaming inside her head started to increase in volumes. Her insides were panicking that it was over so quickly, that moment of quiet from the noise. That moment of bliss was fading, and the after effects were always worse.

"Do you hear it?" She whispered to him and he turned to face her.

"Hear what Gin?"

"The screaming."

"I hear nothing."

"Not since…"

"Yeah,"

"Do you want to die George?"

He turned to look at her, his eyes dead and his face gaunt.

"If it means an end to this pain. But I don't think mum could deal with three of us gone,"

"Three?"

"Come on Gin, you're halfway there already,"

Because in the end, she would give anything to be able to breathe without pain.

George she could tolerate. The screaming didn't stop, nor did it quieten, but it had a way of lulling slightly when he spoke. As if the Mad Ginny appreciated the words of a destroyed soul. She thought of Fred, and of his dead smile.

Her heart bled a little bit more.

The house was empty, Harry had gone to a ball. And she had known without a doubt that she would not be attending. Because she was sure if she did, what little sanity she had left, would dance right out of her, along with the other people at the dance.

Instead she sat in the house, a knife in her hand.

The kitchen was quite, and the clock ticked almost too loudly. She trailed the sharp metal against her skin, tickling it slightly.

With a smile she pressed the tip down, pulling it across her skin in one smooth motion. And gasped in relief at the silence she was rewarded with. 

Because in the end, she fell in love with the sight of her own blood.

Because blood equalled silence, and silence equalled relief, and it was bliss. So she made many cuts, all over her body, breathing deeply as blood trickled over her skin. She didn't even cry.

She cleaned herself up quickly, wincing slightly as she pulled on a long sleeved top and fell into a deep sleep before the screaming would become too loud.

XXXXXXXXX

Everyone notices her slipping away. Because she was the girl who always smiled, who always laughed and sang. The girl who hugged her friends when times were tough and who always seemed to know the exact right words to say. So when she starts fading, when her lights start to flicker they can't help but ask her questions, their voices laced with concern.

And who knows if she hears them when they speak, maybe she does or maybe she doesn't but soon they stop trying and instead silence becomes her companion. Her friends miss her smiles, and her laughter. But no one can reach her now, she's too far away and their rope is too short.

They all see the cuts carved into her forearm, they all wince at the torn skin but what can they say? She doesn't listen to them like she used to. They find they have to look away now when they see her fingering the end of one of the knives at lunch time, and when they walk past she lets them take her cutlery with no objection. Her eyes glazed over and they wonder if she even cries at pain anymore.

But now the fiery red head has been reduced to silence. Many wonder about owling her husband, because if anyone can save her it would be Harry. But it seems to deep a subject, too personal to send an owl for.

So they allow her into work at the Ministry, her results into defensive spells haven't dropped, they figure that what's she does in the times she usually spends with her work friends. They hate to imagine her in her office all cooped up with books and papers, alone. Alone, with scissors and razors, with items that a woman of her mentality really shouldn't be handling.

So they stay silent, and pray to God that whatever darkness Ginny's facing, is forced out of her.

XXXXXXXXX

She sips her champagne and watches the scene unfold in front of her. The commotion surrounds the couple as the make their way slowly out of the ballroom. The young woman leans heavily on her fiancée, her shoulders shaking as he guides her, his arm protectively supporting her.

She turns her attention back to the forgotten member of the scene, with so many people wondering if Miss Granger is alright, and the press crowding around to take as many pictures and ask as many probing questions as they can before the couple are gone from sight, he remains unnoticed for a while.

His posture is rigid, and his face is turns up to the ceiling. Her eyes widen slightly as she notices a lone tear fall down his cheek and over his clenched jaw.

You didn't have to be a genius to figure out what had been going on between the three people, but he was a hated figure of society, and so the story would be twisted to make it look like he said manipulative and hurtful things to Miss Granger instead of the truth.

He was deeply and painfully in love with the witch.

She had as good as seen his heart break as the two of them had stood swaying gently together. She blinked as a blonde in a deep red dress made her way quickly over to Draco and tilted his head down to look at her, her thumb brushing away the tear track.

She walked quickly around the couple so that she could see both of their faces, and using the skill of lip reading that she had picked up as a journalist, she listened or rather saw their conversation.

"I gave you as long as I could," the blonde spoke to him, drawing his attention to her quickly, her eyes darting about the room.

"The minute she's off the building, they'll come and bombard you, they'll want to know what you said and all the rest of it. This will be in all of the newspapers tomorrow, but if we want to avoid immediate backlash we need to leave now," the blonde continue, speaking fast and it took all her efforts to keep up with the quick words.

"Give me a moment," he replied blankly, his eyes unseeing.

"Draco," the woman replied, almost pleadingly and he looked down at her fully, enforcing his Malfoy power across to her.

"A moment, Kirsty," he repeated and she nodded and swept away from him, moving quickly towards one of the back doors, her eyes locked on Malfoy's face.

She turned from looking at Kirsty and watched Malfoy completely, he seemed unaware of the chaos surrounding him and instead spoke quietly, his eyes gazing at the wall.

"Be with me always-take any form-drive me mad! only DO not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I CANNOT live without my life! I CANNOT live without my soul!"

She felt tears build up in her eyes as he recited a quote from a Muggle book she had once read, whilst doing research for a story about a crime of passion. He whispered it with such understanding, such resentment and so much agony that she couldn't help but shudder from it. It was like he had crafted every word, like the words were his own and they had been spoken because of his situation.

She couldn't help but notice the change. He had spoken words taken from a Muggle book, meant for Muggle people, and spoken them because of a witch who he had once considered a Mudblood. If that wasn't enough proof of his change, she didn't know what was.

He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes closed for a long time before opening them and turning towards Kirsty, marching straight out of the door she held open for him and never once looking back.

"June? June are you alright?" She turned to see her colleague Mark staring at her, frowning and she blinked away the tears.

"Of course I am," she replied slightly croaky.

"Well come on then, the Prophet's going to want the story. We should go home and work on it now," he suggested and she smiled and nodded, following him towards the exit, turning around and gazing once more after Malfoy.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she could never escape him.

It was cold. Very cold. Why was it so cold?

She blinked wearily, and sat up from the hard ground, frowning as she looked around. How the Hell did she get here?

She stood up and looked around the Chamber, familiar distressing memories flooded her mind as she walked around, her bare feet slipping against the wet ground. She turned around and jumped at the sight of the huge Basilisk, laying unmoved from the floor from when Harry had stabbed it those many years ago. She wondered how it had been preserved so well and couldn't help but reach up onto her tiptoes to feel along its scaly skin.

She had once opened this. The Chamber of Secrets, was in a way hers. Because he had placed the knowledge inside of her, he had been inside of her. He'd driven her to find this place, and unleash the monster within it.

In some sick, twisted way, this place was special to her.

As well as terrifying.

"Well, well, well,"

She screamed.

Because that was his voice, but he was dead, he had been destroyed in front of her very eyes, by the man she adored more than anything in the world. But that was his voice, and she could almost feel his presence behind her.

"Won't you look at me Ginny?"

She turned around to face him, and stopped breathing. Her entire body trembled as he stood in front of her. The man she once thought she knew.

"How long do you think it'll be Ginny? Before he leaves you?"

Because in the end, Tom knew her better than anyone.

"He wouldn't leave me," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear as he stepped closer to her.

"Wouldn't he? You think he still wants you with these?" he gestured towards the scars that marked her skin on her arms and her legs, and she realised she was only wearing the big oversized top she wore to bed.

"Am I dreaming?" she murmured, looking around the Chamber, desperate to find any discrepancies from how she remembered it.

"Does it matter? Tell me Ginny, how long until he leaves?"

"He loves me,"

"Enough? To deal with your cheating, your drugs, the alcohol, the self harm, or the big one. To deal with the screaming?"

She glared at him, hating to hear the words that now described her.

"Let me see," he said quietly, reaching for her arms.

"No," she whispered her tone filled with venom as she took a step away from him. He laughed loudly, his voice echoing around the large and empty Chamber.

"Oh Ginny, do you really think you have a choice?" He asked, stepping forward and locking his hand around her wrist.

She didn't fight him.

His fingers ran over the newly made scars, watching as she winced when he pressed down on the skin a little too deeply. His fingers danced over the old scars, the ones that had now faded white, running the pad of his finger along the new smooth skin. His fingers stopped at the little scars on the inside of her elbow, where the needle goes in, where the drugs filter into her system.

"You're going to die Ginny, you're body won't be able to take this much longer," he remarked to her, dropping her arm harshly and turning away from her, walking back down the chamber, his shoes clacking against the floor.

"I know," she replied, feeling empty.

"But of course that was your plan all along wasn't it? To die. The minute the screaming started you and I both knew you'd have no other option," he paused for a few seconds, running his fingers along the Basilisks scales in the same way she had done.

"Tell me Ginny, how loud is the screaming now Ginny?"

Because in the end, Tom was her only true escape.

There was no screaming. It was complete silence.

She fell to her knees in both surprise and relief. Tears began to pour down her face as she revelled in the silence. The silence she never thought she'd hear again. Her freedom was buried in the silence, and as the wet seeped into her nightshirt she couldn't find it in her to move.

Because it was so so quiet.

"I can save you from it little Ginny, I can save you from anything,"

She looked up at him from her place on the floor, her greasy hair falling across her face.

"Submit to me," he demanded "And you shall be free from the screaming, free from the pain. Give yourself to me,"

He offered out his hand and Ginny couldn't help but reach out her own to grab his. She would always be his, always give him anything.

Just as their fingers were about to touch….

"Ginny, wake up!"

She opened her eyes to see Harry's face looming over her, his eyes tired and forever worried.

The screaming started, so loud because he was in such harsh proximity to her, she had to escape.

"_The only other way is death little Ginny," _his voice drifted across her mind, informing her of the escape she already knew.

She pushed past Harry and got out of their bed, almost running towards the bathroom, ignoring Harry's desperate sob of her name.

She locked the bathroom door closed, and sunk down to the floor, her hands gripping at her hair as the screaming continued. Her own scream.

"Ginny please!" Harry begged on the other side of the door. "We need to talk about this, I don't know what it is I've done, but I promise you I'll fix it, I'll give you anything. Just stop, please stop hurting yourself like this…"

A sob escaped her lips as she heard his begging.

"I miss you Ginny,"

And oh Merlin she missed him too, so much. But whilst she was around him the screaming never quietened and she needed it to end.

Because in the end, she had no other option.

XXXXXXXXX

She walked down the dark road, wondering again why she had felt the need to go for a walk at such a time. Her nervousness was radiating off her, and her hand clutched at her wand, her eyes darting everywhere.

She had just needed to get out of the house, she couldn't stand to sit and be with Ron as though everything was normal. She couldn't.

Her heart began pounding as she turned to walk down the alley, the very dark alley, that lead to the road her house was on. She pulled her cloak around her, and kept walking, her steps becoming quicker.

"Granger,"

A startled scream left her lips and her wand was pointed straight ahead at the person stepped out in front of her from the shadows.

She could just about make out their silhouette. The one silhouette she would know anywhere.

Her heart didn't slow down, instead it seemed to crack a little but continue to beat as hard as before, as she knew without a doubt who was stood in front of her.

"Lumos," she whispered and the alley became illuminated with light and his eyes stared down at her.

"You shouldn't be here," she whispered, staring at the ground, knowing that if she looked at his face, she wouldn't be able to stop.

"I had to see…" he trailed off, but stepped forward. And she for the life of her, couldn't make herself step away.

"How could you be so stupid?" He said quietly, his voice dangerous.

"Do you not understand how much you're life is worth? You absolute idiot,"

"I don't need to stand here and listen to you insult my intelligence Draco,"

"Oh no, I think you do. Using your work as a way to escape this," he said, gesturing between himself and her "is fine. But do not, do not, ever think about doing work as dangerous as that again. Your heart very nearly stopped beating Granger!" He shouted, his face flushed and angry as he stepped nearer to her.

"And so did mine," he murmured, running his finger along the deep cut that slashed across her cheek.

"I can take care of myself," she whispered into the darkness between them and she glowered a little as he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, so that's why Potter had to apparate your dying body back here to St Mungo's while that hex slowly drained the life out of you?" He bit back to her response, his body shaking slightly.

"It was one time Draco,"

"Understand this Granger, you carry my heart as well as your own. If you die, I will as well,"

"I don't want your heart,"

"Deal with it. You took it from me a very long time ago,"

She remembered the first time she had any real contact with Draco after her endorsement of him as a good and changed Wizard. The job involved the uses of some very heavy, very dangerous potions, that were being bought and sold on the Wizard's Black Market.

Draco's involvement had infuriated her at the beginning, but since Snape was no longer alive, Draco was the next best thing they had to a World Class Potions maker and so she would just have to lump it.

She remembered their fights, their huge arguments that evolved because of nothing and ended with heaving chests and flushed cheeks. And extremely dilated pupils. His intelligence and attitude to life contrasted and complemented her own, and the moment when she had realised that Malfoy was more attractive to her than her own perfect boyfriend, was the moment she began to hate herself.

All she knew was that when Ronald proposed she had no choice to accept, because really would a relationship as toxic and fiery as the one she had with Malfoy ever be healthy?

She had fallen into bed with Draco on the very same night that she accepted Ron's proposal.

And since that night, she had not been able to stop herself from going to him. From letting his mouth burn his skin, and from completely melting under that intense stare he'd send her when they both when spent and just lying next to each other.

"Please don't do this," she murmured, and he took a step back from her, his posture rigid as he stared just over the top of her head.

"I merely came to make sure you were in fact fine. You know how the newspapers like to exaggerate," he drawled, his voice sounding cold and bored. And if she hadn't known better she would have said that he was uncaring.

She nodded, and raised a hand to her cheek, rubbing softly at the scar. Thinking of how that deep gash would now forever be with her.

"I'm fine," she muttered, dropping her hand back down and staring at him in silence. The two of them stood together unmoving, but not wanting to go.

"Te me manques," she whispered, so softly she wasn't sure if he had heard it.

He had been one of the few people she had been friends with, who knew how to converse in French, and seeing as neither Harry or Ron did at all, she often found herself slipping into the beautiful language to either try and catch him out, or to simply feel the French language flow into the air.

"Me too Granger,"

He walked slowly towards her and ducked his head, she turned slightly to look at his face and almost collapsed as his lips met hers. His eyes widened in surprise, evidently aiming for her cheek but getting her lips instead. He slowly pulled away but kept his face near hers, slipping his hand into her mass of cold curls.

She exhaled shakily into the air between them, her heart beating outrageously fast. He groaned slightly before pulling away from her completely, his hand falling from her neck as he apparated into the air.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, reliving over and over the sensation of his lips on hers.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she just didn't care anymore.

So she downed drink after drink, pushed substance after substance into her body, and really and truly hoped to God that she would die. Because if nothing else came of it, if she spent eternity burning in Hell and never being able to see Harry again, at least it would be quiet.

XXXXXXXXX

She had no choice but to follow the drunken red head and the random leering man into the girls toilet and wait patiently outside the toilets, ignoring the moans and grunts coming from the inside of the cubicle, her disgust very perfectly hidden.

She walked up to the mirror, and applied lip balm, rubbing it onto her lips calmly.

When it was all finished, she looked into the mirror and watched as the old flushed man exited the cubicle, a smug satisfied look on his face and she had no doubt that he would be telling all of his perverted friends about the chick he had just scored.

She leant against the sink and waited for the red head to appear from the cubicle. What she did not expect was for Ginny to appear, tears streaming down her face and a sharp knife plunged deep into her arm.

She blinked at her in shock and watched as Ginny's eyes widened, the tears dripping down her face. She pulled the knife across her skin and ignored the blood that started to pool immediately afterwards. Instead Ginny kept her eyes fixed on Hermione's face, as she slowly pushed the knife back into her arm, whimpering as she pushed it hard against her skin.

Hermione just waited, her eyes expressionless as Ginny made cut after cut. She could instinctively tell that trying to stop Ginny would be a lot worse than allowing her this escape, this torture, and dealing with the aftermath later.

And when Ginny had finally sunk to the floor, the knife clattering against the ground, Hermione went and bent down, a ready antibiotic wipe in her hand. She gently wiped it across Ginny's skin, her eyes apologetic as Ginny moaned in pain.

Methodically she wiped and healed every single cut that Ginny had created, whilst Ginny sat completely high, watching her with confused eyes.

The room and the two people in it, were deadly silent.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she had always wanted him to leave her.

She didn't know why. But she didn't feel worthy of him anymore. She had waited so long for him to see that it was her he was in love with, that it was her who could give him everything. But when it came down to it, she couldn't give him anything.

Because she was infected, and diseased and wrong. She had become the definition of madness, and she longed for silence that he just couldn't give her.

When Hermione finally took her home, she didn't expect him to be there. But he was, in just a pair of joggers, his hair so messed she could almost see the tracks his hands had left there.

She blinked tiredly at him, and a lone tear slipped down her face as the screaming started more manically, the Mad Ginny pleaded with her to move away from him.

"Please," she whispered.

Hermione kissed her cheek, and patted her back, whispering that she would drop in tomorrow to check on her.

And then it was silent in her dark house, with only the kitchen light on, and Harry stood staring.

Except it was never silent. Never.

Because in the end, she would hide from him forever just to get the noise out of her head.

She stared at him for what seemed like forever, and he looked blankly right back.

The noise overwhelmed her, so she made to move past him but he grabbed her hand and pushed her right back in front of him, his eyes unforgiving. Mad Ginny wailed, and she winced in response, it was so loud.

"We need to talk about this," he said firmly.

"There is nothing to talk about," she whispered.

"No. There is a lot to talk about, and unless you let me understand. I will leave,"

Finally.

He was seeing sense.

"I can't explain,"

"Please try,"

She looked up at him and shook her head, waiting for the moment when he walked away.

But instead he did the one thing she was not expecting, he walked towards her, grabbed her face and smashed his lips upon hers.

XXXXXXXXX

She thinks she saw the exact moment that he began to fall for someone else.

She walked into the ministry and saw him talking to a girl with deep white hair, all the way down to her waist and the petite figure of a woman who could make it as a model.

Draco's eyes give him away. He stared at her with the same intensity, and almost challenge that he looked at Hermione with. She watched, almost burning in such sharp agony as he bantered and argued, purposefully trying to get a rise out of the girl, his eyes watching with intrigued amusement as she met him word for word.

It made Hermione feel sick.

So she walked past him, in much the same way she did to Ron all those years ago at Hogwarts, when he had been moaning about her to his friends.

She missed the way his eyes followed her with longing resignation.

When she got home from work that night Ron was sat quietly on the sofa and she knew immediately that something was wrong. She was planning to pop back out and check on Ginny but Ron's blank expression told her that wouldn't be happening any time soon.

"Just tell me what to do," he said quietly and she watched him wearily, the keys to their house still clutched tightly in her hand.

"About what Ron?" she replied, trying to keep her voice light, to pretend that she can't feel the thick heavy tension that crowds the room, or to pretend like she doesn't know where this is heading.

"Tell me how to make you love me…"

"Ron I do…"

"The way you love him,"

The silence rings out between them.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she could never be fixed.

NO.

Every essence of her body tried desperately to push him away, to make him stop touching her to appease the Mad Ginny inside her.

Because oh sweet Merlin, she was so loud. And so angry.

But Harry held on. His lips pressed against hers urgently, and his arms encircled her wriggling body and she tried to pull her face away.

"I love you," he murmured into her mouth and her entire world exploded.

There was pain and so much regret. Images of drugs, knives and nameless men floated behind her eyelids as the final terrifying scream rang through her head.

Then everything went silence.

XXXXXXXXX

Ron left her on the same day that Draco consummated his relationship with Astoria Greengrass, the girl at the ministry.

In a way it seemed kind of fitting. She slept with Draco on the night of her engagement, and he slept with his new love on the night of her break up.

Hermione thinks she can feel the exact moment that he betrayed her. Well it couldn't really be called a betrayal, since his belief was that she was about to marry Ronald, but she can't help but feel that way.

Her life over the next few days becomes a blur. The press hound her once more, and made up stories circulate the two people.

She and Ron both insist that their friendship remains strong, even though deep down she knows it will take years for it to be even half of what it was before.

She walked into the two of them at Hogwarts. A kind of remembrance service was being held at Hogwarts for those in her year, she knew Ron would not be attending so it made sense for her to go. She walked up the familiar steps with a deep nostalgic feeling deep in her chest. She hurried along the corridors knowing that she was incredibly late, but she continued to let her fingers run over the new constructed but somehow still the same walls of the school she loved.

Her eyes were focused on the floor and the apology flew out of her mouth before she could even see who it was she had bumped into.

"I'm so sorry…" she trailed off as bright blue eyes look down at her. Blonde hair fell across a perfectly chiselled face, and full lips smiled at her happily. She tried desperately to think of what she must have done to make God hate her so much.

"Hermione! I've honestly being dying to meet you!" Astoria ignored the fact that Hermione had literally crashed straight into her and instead shook her hand enthusiastically.

"Granger,"

She heard him speak. She refused to look at him.

"Hi," she replied meekly, a weak smile shot back at Astoria.

"I was just saying to Draco, we should probably wait outside her. I think the opening speeches are happening right now, and it might disturb them if all three of us tumble in," Astoria giggled, and leant against the lean body of the man next to her. Hermione kept her eyes focused on Astoria's beautiful face.

"It's weird to be back isn't it?" Astoria commented, either ignorant to the awkwardness that seemed to surround the three of them, or just very carefully ignoring it.

"Incredibly weird," Hermione agrees, looking at the doors to the Great Hall, wishing the speeches would hurry up.

"Is Ron not with you?"

It was silent for a beat, whilst understanding dawned on the blonde woman.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I just didn't even think, Hermione…" Astoria trailed off, her cheeks blooming, obviously mortified.

Hermione smiled slightly at her expression, if not for that fact that this woman played a part in destroying her heart, Hermione felt like she could honestly like her.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione shrugged it off, smiling reassuringly at the blonde girl, whose eyes screamed with apology.

"Don't worry about what?" Draco asked, and Hermione made her mind up. He never read the newspapers, not unless he had to. He didn't trust the information there and rightly so, but she needed him to know this. To know that too late the decision that could have saved the pair of them was made.

"Ronald and I broke up," she replied, determinedly looking Draco straight in the eye and hoping to God he can see her pain.

The huge doors swung open and Hermione stormed past the pair and into the Hall ignoring the gasps she received from various onlookers.

She barely even blinked at the click of cameras and the round of applause she received. Her eyes sought out a familiar face and she practically sprinted down the Hall to reach Neville.

He was stood at the top of the Hall, the Headmaster of Hogwarts now. She hadn't let his bravery and intelligence go unnoticed, and the two of them had formed a strong friendship, despite the fact that they rarely spoke, she trusted him with her life. And just merely seeing him bought her some comfort.

He turned as she called his name and his mouth opened in shock as she flung herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck. He went rigid as he felt her tears on his skin, and very discreetly turned them so he his back was turned against the majority of the people, giving her some privacy. His arms wound around her back, murmuring pointless words, just to bring her any kind of comfort he can offer.

She shuddered at the memory as she walked down Diagon Alley at a ridiculously late hour. Her heart clenches when she saw Astoria coming out one of the shops directly in front of her, her glamorous coat swaying in the wind. She half considered running, but the blonde marched up to her with such confidence and calm that Hermione is rooted to the spot.

"Hello," Astoria said, her voice melodic in the quiet night.

"Hi," Hermione replied quietly.

"How do you do it?" Astoria asked and Hermione stared at her blankly.

"Do what?"

"Captivate him so fully,"

The question floored her, and she closed her eyes for a long moment.

"I… It is you he is captivated with at the moment,"

Hermione walked away without looking back.

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she is finally safe.

The world is quiet.

The normal noises are all that she hears. Harry's voice once again sounds like a melody, and she once again longs for his touch.

She was hit by a curse. A curse meant to drive her insane and push everyone she loved away. A curse that could only be broken by the unspoken promise of her partner to love her forever.

And that is exactly what Harry had given her. Once again, he had beaten Tom in every way.

She goes through withdrawal and it hurts, she longs for the drugs she no longer needs, and resents herself for it. She looks at the marks on her arms, and wishes more than ever that she could turn back time and erase the long white and purple lines. She gets checked out by nurses, and thanks the God that she always had protected sex.

And through it all Harry still loves her.

And in return she see's in him again the beauty that she had lost during her time of pain.

She falls in love with him all over again, falling straight into his waiting arms whilst he is just glad to have her back, forgiving her of everything she had ever done without a second thought.

She has visitors, lots of them in St Mungo's. All wishing her well, and all who's she's missed. When Malfoy turns up however, she is surprised.

"You," she states obviously.

"And you," he drawls.

"Why are you here?"

"I won't lie to you Weasley, I was hoping to bump into someone else,"

"Who?"

"Granger."

"Hermione?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I am in love with her,"

"Oh."

XXXXXXXXX

"Care for a dance?"

She spun to look at him, and her mouth fell open.

It was cold and the stars were shining brightly. She was wearing her pyjamas and her hair was in a loose bun.

He was in a suit and holding a tulip.

"You found me," she murmured, gesturing to the empty surroundings of the hill they were stood on.

"I had help," he shrugged, walking towards her.

"Who would have? Oh! You asked Ginny?" She asked in disbelief, and he nodded.

"I had no other option, I had no idea where you would be. After a lot of convincing she proved incredibly helpful." He smirked as he stopped right in front of her, causing her breathing to speed right up.

"Astoria?"

"Beautiful yes. But it would never have worked. The minute you were freed from the relationship there was no way I would ever even consider letting either of us be with anyone else," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling him to her.

"Possessive aren't you?" she teased, contentment spilling into her heart.

"I have waited for you for so long," he murmured back, slowly swaying them to the silent music.

"There is a lot of stuff we need to talk about and things we have to do…"

He silenced her with a kiss, his lips urgent but gentle, as if he knew they had all the time in the world.

"People are going hate me you know," she whispered sadly when they pulled away, resting her head against his.

"I know," he replied, moving the bodies together.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Now Granger, we dance,"

XXXXXXXXX

Because in the end, she had everything.

XXXXXXXXX

I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.


End file.
